I am enthralled by little pins

of cold that dissipate on my tongue.

The crisp air tingles my nostrils

as I gaze into the soft grey sky.

The flakes are tiny.

They float lazily down

and sparkle for an instant

before disappearing into the grass.

The silence is palpable.

"This is it", I think to myself.

"This is the real snow

I have been waiting for

ever since that first wet,

sticky mess in November."

I want to laugh out loud

and shout into the sky.

But it would be almost sacreligious

to break the silence.

I gather firewood and go

back into the house.

The dog wants to go outside,

she barks once

and the moment is gone.

But her presence reminds me of you.